University of Virginia Library

17. CHAPTER XVII.

Possession instead of cooling the passion of
Abdalasis, only added to its force; he became
blindly enamoured of his beautiful bride, and
consulted her will in all things; nay, having lost
all relish for the advice of the discreet Ayub,
he was even guided by the counsels of his wife
in the affairs of government. Exilona, unfortunately,
had once been a queen, and she could
not remember her regal glories without regret.
She saw that Abdalasis had great power in the
land; greater even than had been possessed by
the gothic kings; but she considered it as
wanting in true splendour until his brows should
be encircled with the outward badge of royalty.
One day, when they were alone in the
palace of Seville, and the heart of Abdalasis
was given up to tenderness, she addressed him
in fond yet timid accents. “Will not my lord
be offended,” said she, “if I make an unwel

come request?” Abdalasis regarded her with
a smile. “What canst thou ask of me, Exilona,”
said he, “that it would not be a happiness
for me to grant?” Then Exilona produced a
crown of gold, sparkling with jewels, which
had belonged to the king, Don Roderick, and
said, “Behold, thou art king in authority, be so
in thy outward state. There is majesty and
glory in a crown; it gives a sanctity to power.”
Then putting the crown upon his head, she held
a mirror before him that he might behold the
majesty of his appearance. Abdalasis chid her
fondly, and put the crown away from him, but
Exilona persisted in her prayer. “Never,” said
she, “has there been a king in Spain that did
not wear a crown.” So Abdalasis suffered
himself to be beguiled by the blandishments of
his wife, and to be invested with the crown and
sceptre and other signs of royalty.[25]

It is affirmed by ancient and discreet chroniclers,
that Abdalasis only assumed this royal
state in the privacy of his palace, and to gratify
the eye of his youthful bride; but where was a
secret ever confined within the walls of a palace?
The assumption of the insignia of the
ancient gothic kings was soon rumoured about,

and caused the most violent suspicions. The
moslems had already felt jealous of the ascendancy
of this beautiful woman, and it was now
confidently asserted that Abdalasis, won by her
persuasions, had secretly turned christian.

The enemies of Abdalasis, those whose rapacious
spirits had been kept in check by the beneficence
of his rule, seized upon this occasion
to ruin him. They sent letters to Damascus
accusing him of apostacy, and of an intention
to seize upon the throne in right of his wife,
Exilona, as widow of the late King Roderick.
It was added, that the christians were prepared
to flock to his standard as the only means of
regaining ascendancy in their country.

These accusations arrived at Damascus just
after the accession of the sanguinary Suleiman
to the throne, and in the height of his persecution
of the unfortunate Muza. The caliph
waited for no proofs in confirmation; he immediately
sent private orders that Abdalasis should
be put to death, and that the same fate should
be dealt to his two brothers who governed in
Africa, as a sure means of crushing the conspiracy
of this ambitious family.

The mandate for the death of Abdalasis was
sent to Abhilbar ben Obeidah and Zeyd ben
Nabegat, both of whom had been cherished
friends of Muza, and had lived in intimate

favour and companionship with his son. When
they read the fatal parchment, the scroll fell
from their trembling hands. “Can such hostility
exist against the family of Muza?” exclaimed
they. “Is this the reward for such
great and glorious services?” The cavaliers
remained for some time plunged in horror and
consternation. The order, however, was absolute,
and left them no discretion. “Allah is
great,” said they, “and commands us to obey
our sovereign.” So they prepared to execute
the bloody mandate with the blind fidelity of
moslems.

It was necessary to proceed with caution.
The open and magnanimous character of Abdalasis
had won the hearts of a great part of
the soldiery, and his magnificence pleased the
cavaliers who formed his guard; it was feared,
therefore, that a sanguinary opposition would
be made to any attempt upon his person. The
rabble, however, had been imbittered against
him from his having restrained their depredations,
and because they thought him an apostate
in his heart, secretly bent upon betraying them
to the christians. While, therefore, the two
officers made vigilant dispositions to check any
movement on the part of the soldiery, they let
loose the blind fury of the populace by publishing
the fatal mandate. In a moment the city

was in a ferment, and there was a ferocious
emulation who should be first to execute the
orders of the caliph.

Abdalasis was at this time at a palace in the
country not far from Seville, commanding a
delightful view of the fertile plain of the Guadalquivir.
Hither he was accustomed to retire
from the tumult of the court, and to pass his
time among groves and fountains and the sweet
repose of gardens, in the society of Exilona. It
was the dawn of day, the hour of early prayer,
when the furious populace arrived at this retreat.
Abdalasis was offering up his orisons in
a small mosque which he had erected for the
use of the neighbouring peasantry. Exilona
was in a chapel in the interior of the palace,
where her confessor, a holy friar, was performing
mass. They were both surprised at their
devotions, and dragged forth by the hands of
the rabble. A few guards, who attended at the
palace, would have made defence, but they
were overawed by the sight of the written mandate
of the caliph.

The captives were borne in triumph to Seville.
All the beneficent virtues of Abdalasis
were forgotten; nor had the charms of Exilona
any effect in softening the hearts of the populace.
The brutal eagerness to shed blood, which
seems inherent in human nature, was awakened,

and woe to the victims when that eagerness
is quickened by religious hate. The illustrious
couple adorned with all the graces of youth
and beauty, were hurried to a scaffold in the
great square of Seville, and there beheaded
amidst the shouts and execrations of an infatuated
multitude. Their bodies were left exposed
upon the ground, and would have been devoured
by dogs, had they not been gathered at
night by some friendly hand, and poorly interred
in one of the courts of their late dwelling.

Thus terminated the loves and lives of Abdalasis
and Exilona, in the year of the incarnation
seven hundred and fourteen. Their names
were held sacred as martyrs to the christian
faith; but many read in their untimely fate a
lesson against ambition and vain-glory; having
sacrificed real power and substantial rule to the
glittering bawble of a crown.

The head of Abdalasis was embalmed and
enclosed in a casket, and sent to Syria to the
cruel Suleiman. The messenger who bore it
overtook the caliph as he was performing a
pilgrimage to Mecca. Muza was among the
courtiers in his train, having been released from
prison. On opening the casket and regarding
its contents, the eyes of the tyrant sparkled
with malignant satisfaction. Calling the unhappy

father to his side: “Muza,” said he, “dost
thou know this head?” The veteran recognized
the features of his beloved son, and
turned his face away with anguish. “Yes!
well do I know it,” replied he; “and may the
curse of God light upon him who has destroyed
a better man than himself.”

Without adding another word, he retired to
Mount Deran, a prey to devouring melancholy.
He shortly after received tidings of the death of
his two sons whom he had left in the government
of western Africa, and who had fallen
victims to the jealous suspicions of the caliph.
His advanced age was not proof against these
repeated blows, and this utter ruin of his late
prosperous family, and he sank into his grave
sorrowing and broken hearted.

Such was the lamentable end of the conqueror
of Spain; whose great achievements
were not sufficient to atone, in the eye of his
sovereign, for a weakness to which all men ambitious
of renown are subject; and whose triumphs
eventually brought persecution upon
himself, and untimely death upon his children.

Here ends the legend of the Subjugation of
Spain.